STEVE MEETS WITH DISAPPOINTMENT
Early on the following morning Steve Rush started out with a list of the
other mills in that vicinity, first having called at the Brodskys to get
the names of the other foremen that Ignatz had promised to procure for
him.
Ignatz was not at home. He had not been home all night and Mrs. Brodsky
was greatly worried. So was Steve. He knew that the boy had intended to
go directly home and help his mother.
"I'll tell you what I will do. I will see if I can find him. I was going
on some matters of my own, but they can wait."
Mrs. Brodsky was profuse in her thanks as Steve started away to look for
the missing boy. Outside, the Iron Boy halted, wondering where he should
look. It was quite possible that Ignatz had gone to the mills to work,
and in that case Rush would not be able to see him, for the Iron Boy
would not be allowed to enter the yards unless he did so secretly, for
the guard would stop him now that his name was not on the list of
employés.
Steve thought of the hospital. He hurried there at once. The lad knew
all the surgeons and nurses, having become well acquainted with them
while he was in the accident department.
"Have you seen anything of a boy named Ignatz Brodsky?" was his first
question on meeting one of the ambulance surgeons.
"Brodsky? Brodsky? Seems to me that was the name of the young fellow I
picked up in the street last night."
"Yes; that was the name," remarked one of the young doctors present.
"Oh, that's too bad. Was he hurt?"
"Yes, he was unconscious when we brought him here in the ambulance,
but----"
"What was the matter--had he been hurt?" questioned Rush excitedly.
"Yes, he had been----"
"How?"
"When he woke up he said he had been kicked by a horse."
"May I see him?"
"He isn't here. He insisted on going to the mills to work this morning.
We thought, at first, that he had been injured internally, but I guess
he didn't get a very bad kick, or he surely would not be going to work
to-day."
"Thank you very much. His mother was anxious about him. I will go and
tell her that he is all right now," announced Steve, hurrying from the
company's hospital.
Rush trotted along and soon reached the Brodsky home, where he conveyed
the news to Mrs. Brodsky. At first she thought the boy was deceiving her
and that Ignatz had been really seriously hurt even if he were not
already dead. The woman set up a wail of grief. Steve did not know what
else to do, so he grabbed her by the shoulder and shook her.
The shaking evidently had the desired effect, for Mrs. Brodsky ceased
her wailings and began to berate and threaten Ignatz, making promises of
what she would do to him when he got home that night.
Steve argued with her, trying to explain that Ignatz surely could not be
to blame. He had been kicked by a horse while on his way home to help
his mother. After a time the Iron Boy left the widow in a much
pleasanter frame of mind. She even smiled at him as he shook hands with
her and told her what a good boy Ignatz was and how good he had been to
the Iron Boys.
Steve went away smiling, but he became thoughtful as he walked briskly
on. He could not understand how it was that Ignatz had been picked up at
the place where the doctor said he had found the boy. Surely he was not
on his way home, or he could not have been at that point. Steve was a
shrewd boy and he began to reason the thing out. He found himself unable
to get beyond the finding of the Polish boy, so he gave up wondering,
though he suspected there was something more to the affair than he knew
about.
Rush boarded a car and started for the Lincoln Iron Works, the nearest
shops to where he then was.
"It is a good, patriotic name," he mused. "Surely I ought to be able to
get a job there, if there is anything in a name."
Reaching the mills he learned the name of the superintendent from the
gate-keeper, and thus armed went directly to the office and asked to see
the superintendent. He was requested to state his business, which he did
frankly. The word was soon brought back to him that no men were needed.
"May I not speak to the superintendent myself?" he asked.
"No; he has no time to give you," was the answer from the
superintendent's secretary.
Rush left the office with a keen sense of disappointment. He decided to
try the Republic mills next. To reach them he took a short cut over the
hill, finally arriving at the Republic mills four miles away, hot and
tired. There he was fortunate enough to catch the superintendent, who
was pointed out to him as he entered the corridor of the offices.
Rush said he was looking for a place for himself and his companion. The
superintendent looked the boy over critically, discovering at once that
Rush was no ordinary laborer.
"Have you ever worked in the mills?" asked the executive.
"Yes, sir; a short time."
"Where?"
"In the corporation's mills."
"What did you do there?"
"I was first in the accident department, investigating accidents, and so
was my friend. From that we went into the mills to work. We made the
change from choice, so that we could learn the business."
"In what department?"
"We started in the cinder pits, sir."
"Hm-m! How long did you work in the pits?"
"Not quite a day," answered the Iron Boy, flushing.
"Oh! What happened to you then?"
"We were discharged."
"For what reason?"
"Because an untruthful pit boss accused us of blowing up a cinder pit,
either through carelessness or with design," answered Rush truthfully.
"There was not a word of truth in it. If you will give us a place we
will show you that we are all right, and can be trusted to do our work
quickly and well."
"So you tried to blow up the mill in order to learn the steel business,
eh? And now you want us to give you a chance to learn at our expense?"
"Not at your expense; no, sir."
"Bring me a letter from your employer verifying what you say and I will
see what we can do for you."
"I wouldn't care to ask it," replied the boy promptly.
"Nor would I care to take you, under the circumstances," answered the
superintendent, with equal promptness. "Good day. I have no time to
waste."
The executive hurried out of the office on his way to the mills, leaving
Steve standing there with flushed face, uncertain just how he ought to
proceed.
Some of the men standing about were grinning at the boy's discomfiture.
Rush turned on his heel and left the office, fearing to trust himself,
for fear he might say something unpleasant. He walked proudly away, not
stopping until he was well out of the mill settlement. Then he sat down
on a rock and thought matters over. This getting a job, after one had
been discharged, was not the simple matter that he had thought it. The
situation was getting serious.
"But there are others. Surely, I shall be able to find something to do
in one of the mills."
Rush studied his list, and decided to visit the Grey works next. That
meant a tramp, unless he wanted to wait nearly two hours for a steam
train to take him around the base of the mountains, so he set out on
foot again, for a straightaway five-mile tramp.
It was late in the afternoon when Steve reached the place. He learned
that the superintendent was out of town. The assistant superintendent
was in the mills, so the boy sat down to wait for him. Hours passed, but
still the Iron Boy sat reading a paper that he had found.
Shortly after five o'clock in the afternoon the assistant entered the
office. The mills were closing then; that is, the day shift was coming
off and the assistant was in a hurry to get home.
Steve caught him before he got into his private office and stated his
business.
Very much the same conversation ensued as had been the case at the
Republic mills, save that the questions were shot at him at rapid-fire
rate. He answered them fully as promptly, so that but a few minutes were
consumed in the conversation.
"We have no place for you," answered the assistant. "You may be telling
the truth, and you may not. I haven't the time to inquire whether you
are or not. Go back and tell your story to your own superintendent, and
if you are any good he will put you to work again. That's all."
Once more Rush walked from a mill office beaten, although he did not
realize his defeat. He was tired, though not out of the race yet. He did
not even consider the advisability of taking a train back to Steelburgh.
Instead he started out bravely at a swinging gait. A few miles more or
less was nothing to this strong-limbed, athletic lad.
It was after dark when Rush, covered with dust, grimy and tired, swung
into the village and strode to their boarding place.
Jarvis was waiting for him anxiously.
"Well, thank goodness you are back!" said Bob, with evident relief. "I
thought something had happened to you."
"What's new?" interrupted Rush.
"Nothing. Oh, by the way, Ignatz has been here."
"He has, eh?"
"Yes."
"What did he say?"
"Nothing much, but he looked as I imagine the last rose of summer did
when the cool nights came along in the fall," laughed Bob.
"Is he all right?"
"No; I told you he didn't look very scrumptious."
"Did he say what happened to him last night?"
"Yes, said he got kicked by a horse. But, Steve, I guess that horse
story will bear looking into," laughed Jarvis.
"That is what I was thinking. Had he been in a fight?"
"I shouldn't be surprised. His face didn't show it, but he looked pretty
seedy. How many jobs did you get to-day?"
"None," answered Rush rather dolefully.
"Why not?"
"They didn't want us, Bob; that is, not without a recommendation from
our last employer."
"Meaning the Honorable Mr. Watski Kalinski?"
"Exactly," answered Rush dryly.
"I should enjoy reading the recommendation that Watski would give us. It
wouldn't be worth much, would it, now?"
"I guess not," agreed Steve thoughtfully. "Is Ignatz coming in this
evening?"
"He said he might, though he had to go down town on business, but he
wouldn't say what."
"That rascal is up to something, Bob," said Steve, with emphasis.
"He surely is."
"And I have an idea it has to do with us in some manner. I hope he
doesn't mix in this affair. He will only get himself into trouble and
make it harder for us. If you see him first, tell him so. If I see him I
will give him a talking to. He is a faithful friend, old chap."
"He is. Reminds me of a dog I had once. The more you kicked him, the
more he loved you, and he had sharp teeth, too. So has Brodsky. Say, you
don't suppose he got into a mix-up on our account, do you?"
"He may have."
"But tell me about your experience to-day?"
Rush did so, his friend listening attentively until the story came to an
end. Jarvis nodded reflectively.
"I guess it is the mines for us, as they say in Russia. What do you
propose to do?"
"The same thing. I am going to keep at it until I get a job for us, if I
have to tramp up and down the valley all the rest of the summer. It will
take more than one Kalinski to make us change our plans, Bob. Are you
with me?"
"Up to my neck!" replied Bob earnestly.
"That's the way I like to have you talk even if it is a little slangy."